Textile Art – Articultures

Rosie Lee Tompkins: A Retrospective

Those of us fortunate enough to have seen the recent exhibition of Rosie Lee Tompkins remarkable textile works at the Berkeley Art Museum may count our blessings. We have, so far, survived the global pandemic of COVID-19, and the alarming delta variant currently bedeviling us. BAM has reopened, and is once again presenting exhibitions, including this unusual and groundbreaking show that was extended after the shut-down brought it to an early halt. Eli Leon and Larry Rinder both recognized the talent and vision of this unique woman. And, it all began with Tompkins herself mustering the stamina and tenacity to bring her visions to life.

Before diving into the work itself, heralded by Roberta Smith in the New York Times as “one of the century’s major artistic accomplishments,” let’s consider the journey of Rosie Lee Tompkins. Born Effie Mae Miller in Gould, Arkansas, like so many Blacks living in the south in the early 20^th century, she chose to leave that locale—rife with rampant racism, Jim Crow laws and wanton lynchings—for less hostile lands that would presumably offer more opportunity, to the north and west. A part of the Great Migration of over six million African Americans, Effie Mae migrated through Milwaukee and Chicago, eventually to settle in Richmond, CA, a few miles north of Berkeley.

After the dissolution of an early marriage, Effie Mae Howard was at liberty to pursue her calling, along with various pursuits designed to earn a living, such as working as a practical nurse for convalescents. But it was her crazy quilts and pillows that were her true love. Her eye for color and composition garnered significant attention, and sales, eventually allowing her to quit her other jobs. Like many artists, Tompkins was challenged by some personal demons, and suffered a nervous breakdown in her 40s. Deeply religious, she belonged to the Beacon Light Seventh-Day Adventist Church, and her abiding faith sustained her throughout the rest of her life, suffusing her work with an intensity and energy that is undeniable.

*String* (1985) detail. Detail shots of Rosie Lee Tompkins’ work taken by the author.

Entering the show at Berkeley Art Museum, one comes to face the spectacular String (1985) of velvet, velveteen, and chenille backing. While most of Tompkins’ quilts don’t correspond to size of a bed, this one does—a large bed. With long, curving stripes in dark, predominantly cool colors, the bands of fabric thrust upward, then take a strong arc to the left. Its strong symbolic presence suggests a flag, while shades of purple, black and gray, lend it a solemn feeling. The mood is set for not just an entry, but an ascension.

It was Tompkins belief that her artistry was a gift from God, and her work was created in support of healing and spiritual life, for herself as well as that of her friends and family. She was a very private person, and it was with Bay Area based collector and champion of African-American quilting Eli Leon’s strong encouragement that she eventually allowed her work to begin to be exhibited in the late 1980s, with the adoption of the pseudonym Rosie Lee Tompkins offering her a layer of anonymity. Leon’s bequest of some 3000 quilts to BAM makes theirs probably the largest collection of African American quilts held by any museum.

Across the entryway another striking work hung, Untitled (1970s with embroidered scripture added mid-1980s). A central figure depicting Jesus is surrounded by other squares of found embroidery, mostly floral. A wise owl sits sideways above, and a kitten with a yellow bow sits near upper left corner, with shisha cloth adjacent. These two works near the entry, String and Untitled embody the major directions that her work would follow. The first, the abstract vein, places an emphasis on color relationships, geometry and the rhythms of an improvisational design technique. The second, the pictorial quilts, are eclectic melanges of patterns and imagery, ranging from religious iconography, botanical elements and wild patterning to sheer unadulterated kitsch. One might wonder what Clement Greenberg would make of these. Surely, the 20^th century formalist critic might find them a hard sell.

A finished quilt consists of three layers, the sewn-together top pieces, a layer of batting and a uniform backing cloth. Tompkins primarily constructed the top-pieces, with the actual “quilting” left to to others. It is also interesting to note that often she did not specify orientation and that left to curators

Untitled (1984) displays a tropical motif, including fabric printed with word “Hawaii” hibiscuses, palm trees and other floral elements. Untitled (1986) incorporates faux fur and leopard/exotic cat prints in some traditional quilt patterns, rapidly morphing into randomness and chaos. It is Tompkins’ particular method to this madness that is one of the riveting aspects of the work, we may follow her mind processing the ways in which imperfections in one shape, say a square or “half-square,” better known as a triangle to non-quilters, will impact the subsequent shapes and arrangements that she will devise. She chose not to measure the components as she cut them, instead allowing the variations in size and shape to lend a distinctive and quirky element of randomness into the mix.

In the beautifully-produced exhibition catalog, there are three thoughtful essays. Former BAMPFA director Lawrence Rinder’s places the most emphasis on this improvisational aspect, finding in it close parallels to the work of 20^th century jazz musicians, particularly John Coltrane, as they sought to forge a unique style for their art form, severing it intentionally from any Eurocentric roots. Early on in her essay, Elaine Y. Yau, Andrew Mellon Postdoctoral Curatorial Fellow and exhibition co-organizer with Rinder, acknowledges “the inequities of power, as well as reciprocity, that are always at play when artistic outliers enter the mainstream.” She focuses on the enduring significance of the craft aspect of Tompkins’ work, coupled with its significance in a fine art context. Curator and art historian Horace D. Ballard contributes his thoughts on Tompkins’ spiritual nature and enigmatic qualities.

Untitled (1986) is constructed entirely from recycled denim, squares containing pockets set up an insistent design and rhythm, in an homage to her grandfather Zebedee Bell and other farmers and laborers. Nearby, Untitled (2003) consists of found and repurposed neckties in various fabrics, a smaller work. These two works show a kind of formal and thematic discipline that gives them a tighter focus, and sets them a bit apart from much of the other work.

In a vitrine are a number of reliquary-like bottles, encrusted with ornate trim, baubles and bangles, suggesting shrines and totem objects. The abundance of pattern and texture begins to have a bit of a hallucinatory effect, with the intensity of the artist’s focus pulling us ever closer in to her mysterious inner world. BAM has included over 70 of the artist’s quilts, which is a little overwhelming at times—given how dense and complex each one is. With a visual overload of texture, shape and imagery, this abundance allows us to fully appreciate the scope of her work, her devotion to her craft, and the obsessive nature of the work.

In the rear gallery are several quilts with a color scheme of complimentary yellow/orange and purple. Tompkins called this the three sixes combination, an allusion to birthdates, her own, 9/6/36, as well as those of relatives, that contained the number six. Works such as Thirty-Six Nine-Patch (Three Sixes combination) (1999) offer simpler designs of squares of varying sizes, once again, pieced together with a system combining logic and chaos, straight edges and meandering lines that go askew. The vibration is overall harmonious, as we may sense the feeling of solidarity and support she derived from belonging to this connected group.

A section near the end of the exhibition highlights the Pictorial Quilts, many of massive size, which incorporate found images, embroidered or printed, including dishtowels and t-shirts. While critical attention has in general favored more abstract quilts—one may also recall the praise for the geometric works the quilters of Gee’s Bend—Tompkins more narrative works are crucial to present the scope of her unique passion. A trio of these, each Untitled from 1996, hang adjacent to one another. Stereotypical images of ethnic types, such as Native Americans, some with feathered headdresses, and exotic Spanish dancers, recur in the work. Whether this was a critique of racist imagery is unclear, perhaps more likely is her omnivorous appetite for symbols of all kinds to invigorate the work, although a more pointed intent is certainly a possibility.

In one, Jesus Christ and cherubic angels hover juxtaposed with a childish print of race cars, next to an embroidered calendar/dishtowel embellished with kittens. Stripes of red and white fly above a star-spangled blue field. A red scrap with turrets bears the phrase “Souvenir of Moscow.” The word Hawaii appears with a parrot nearby. Tompkins creates a kind of a multi-cultural tropical melting pot of sweetness laced with pain, and disconnect.

Another Americana-themed piece features John and Bobby Kennedy flanking Martin Luther King, iconic symbols for the civil rights movement of the 60s, interspersed with flags and squares of red and white, along with large swaths of a bucolic, pastoral print in sepia tones evoking a serene colonial scene. The third Untitled (1996) work featuring sports stars, basketball and football players, offers a confrontational image of O.J. Simpson surrounded by text asking “Who framed OJ Simpson? 100% innocent. Not guilty.” Searching for irony here is no doubt misplaced.

While the wall-hung works are predominantly flat, several notable works contain Tompkins’ version of fabric “donuts,” puffy circular forms created by gathering the edges of a round piece of cloth. These range from a joyous piece Untitled (1995) with brilliantly-hued donuts scattered on a field of kelly green, to a stark elegiac work, Untitled (2005), all in black that concludes the exhibition.

Rosie Lee Tompkins’/Effie May Howard’s work combines energies and forces largely beyond our comprehension in a remarkable collection of quilts that have taken on virtually a life of their own. Whether their status as art world icons, and Tompkins’ as a standard-bearer for a new atmosphere of inclusivity in museums and galleries, would have been something truly desired by their maker is likewise unknowable. As it stands, we may enjoy and celebrate the opportunity to experience the world through the eyes and mind of this truly visionary woman.

Barbara Morris

Rosie Lee Tompkins: A Retrospective closed at BAMPFA on July 18, 2021.

https://bampfa.org/program/virtual/rosie-lee-tompkins-retrospective

As coronavirus restrictions ease here in the SF Bay Area, it is quite exhilarating to be able to go out to galleries and see art once again in person. I visited Miguel Arzabe’s exhibition “Cóndor de Cuatro Cabezas/Four Headed Condor” twice, once masked, before the opening day of June 15, and again unmasked, more recently, to dig a little deeper into the work. Johansson Projects was filled with an array of brightly colored, two-dimensional objects displayed on the walls, as well as a sculptural installation. From a distance one might not initially pick up on the techniques the artist employs, perhaps imagining him using tape to grid off his canvas. And that wouldn’t really be so far from the mark, as Arzabe’s art practice at one point did rely upon the exhaustive use of tape, which helped motivate his current, more unusual practice of working with weaving strips of canvas or paper.

The wall-mounted works fall into two categories, works of woven canvas, mounted on traditional wooden stretcher bars, and works of woven paper, hung on wooden dowels. The kind of obsessive and detail-oriented structure of the works hints at a nimble mind, with a fine grasp of many variables at once and an ability to problem-solve structural or mechanical problems as they arise. Perhaps it may come as no surprise to learn that Arzabe, while paying deep homage to his Bolivian roots and indigenous cultures, is trained as an engineer, with a Master’s Degree in Fluid Dynamics.

Arzabe morphed from engineer to artist many years ago, picking up an MFA from UC Berkeley along the way, and apparently hasn’t looked back. He has compiled a lengthy résumé, with numerous international exhibitions and museum shows, as well as residencies and installations at the likes of Google, Facebook and YouTube. Jill D’Alessandro, curator of textiles at the de Young Museum, spoke with Arzabe at the gallery last weekend, an event also live-streamed on Instagram. They had initially met the artist when the artist held a residency at the museum in 2016.

When D’Alessandro presented the artist with an introductory question, he prefaced his response first with his thanks to those present, then asking all to reflect on the fact that they were currently on Ohlone soil. This shifted the dynamics of the talk to a different wavelength, and one began to sense how Arzabe might look at the world.

Five of Arzabe’s works are on, or of, canvas, in a variety of systems that combine cutting, weaving and stretching the fabric, upon which the artist has already painted. Two 20^th century modernist painters provided reference material, the artist reinterpreting their works in his own paintings, which are later sliced and woven together. In some one canvas was woven into a work already on the stretchers, in others the weaving was stretched over the bars after completion.

Miguel Arzabe Cosme 2021 Woven acrylic on canvas 50 “x 46”

Cosme (2021) bears the name of the artist’s father, as well as referencing the cosmos. Shapes flicker with rough, torn-appearing edges, navy blue toward center with brighter colors, orange, violet and phthalo blue, toward edges. A border is formed by lighter, cream-colored areas on top, bottom and right edges of the canvas. Some areas have longer vertical bands interwoven with shorter horizontal strips, and vice-versa. D’Alessandro and Arzabe discussed how he likes to turn his work during its making, in a painterly fashion, rather than working with a set warp and weft. Also unlike traditional weavers, Arzabe works intuitively, rather than following a set pattern. Feeling very organic, its snippets of abstract form have a somewhat Kandinsky-like energy.

Arzabe, whose parents moved to the US before he was born, returns fairly frequently to Bolivia to visit his ancestral home, and see relatives who still live there. At an outdoor market he discovered some vintage pieces of weaving, marked with holes and stains accrued in the passage of time, and these have provided inspiration for some of his motifs. He later discovered a reference book on Andean textiles, learning the meaning of a number of the animal symbols used in the designs. In Andean culture, many such mythical creatures are depicted and inform the legends passed down over the generations. One, which he had mistaken for a crab, was in fact a four-headed condor. The exhibition title, this phrase also alludes to four energies joined in the work, the two modernist painters, Arzabe himself, and ultimately the viewer.

During his talk, an audience member posed the question of precisely which two modernist artists were involved, but Arzabe demurred on a response. A colleague, one who also references other artists, had advised him that once he said it, he “couldn’t take it back…and that it would be all anyone would want to talk about.”

Miguel Arzabe Ti Quiero Inti 2021 Woven acrylic on canvas 48 “x 60”

Ti Quiero Inti (2021)refers to the Incan sun god, as well as the artist’s daughter, also named Inti. A central triangular shape in pale blue hues is flanked by arcs and funnel shapes in hot pink and burnt orange, suggesting sky and mountains. A band of brilliant yellow snakes down from the top of the canvas just off center, about to the midway point. This vibrant work suggests not only the artist’s love for his daughter, but for nature as well; it also suggests the work of Marsden Hartley.

Miguel Arzabe Cuniraya 2021 Woven acrylic on Yupo 89 “x 48”

Many of the works incorporate Yupo paper, a synthetic, polypropylene-based paper that is archival and extremely durable. Cuniraya (2021) is an imposing piece of woven acrylic on Yupo. Eighty-nine inches high, it is hung on a wooden dowel suspended from flat metal hooks screwed into the wall, lending it the feeling of a traditional tapestry or other textile art form. Curvilinear forms, evoking Jean Arp, break up into small squares where bits of weaving peek through, as well as larger squares that create a modernist grid on the lower third. The sleek Yupo material also creates an interesting contrast to the traditional craft references.

Miguel Arzabe *En El Ojo el Cóndor* 2021 Woven acrylic on Yupo 46 “x 60.5”

The striking En El Ojo el Cóndor (2021) features a central area of cadmium red, with wing-like forms in orange and pink, dissolving into background. A drab grey-green surrounds this, punctuated with a smattering of Matisse-like stars on the left. A fringe of white at the bottom creates an insistent energy, as intersecting diagonals meet in a central “v” configuration. Arzabe may be referencing 20^th century painters, but his palette appears very 21^st century, with acid hues and oversaturated values that somehow convey a digitally-informed perspective. Also, the persistent emergence of individual squares, created by the weaving process, simultaneously evokes the building block of our contemporary world of digital images, the pixel.

A sweeping angular installation work, Alas (2021) of strips of warm-hued, painted canvas connects the two sides of the gallery space, passing through the archway, and anchoring to wooden supports on the floor and high up the wall. The curved edge where the seven bands wrap and turn the corner before descending is a dramatic moment. Shadows on wall and floor add to the impact of the immersive experience.

Arzabe’s work is very much of this moment, reflecting a combination of influences and concerns, a mingling of materials and techniques that intertwine the ancient and the modern, the physical, mental and spiritual realms as well coming into play. Created during the time of COVID, it is infused as well with an undercurrent of uncertainly, wariness. Reflecting on that aspect, the artist stated that he found immersion in his complex process allowed him to focus his energy into something positive, and it is that resilient spirit of hope which resonates throughout.

Barbara Morris

Miguel Arzabe *En El Ojo el Cóndor* (detail) 2021

Miguel Arzabe Cóndor de Cuatro Cabezas/Four-Headed Condor at Johansson Projects through July 24

https://johanssonprojects.com/portfolio/miguel-arzabe/